Native Mexican couple considers itself Americans, calls Rockford home

Native Mexicans, they had visas when they came to Rockford separately — Luis, in 1995, and Rita, in 2002. They also had some savings from good-paying jobs.

She had been an office manager. He had a college degree, could speak English and knowledge of running a business, specifically a tortilla factory in the Mexican state of Nuevo Leon.

Like so many before them, the legal immigrants, both 58, have had their challenges in the United States — juggling multiple jobs, relying on attorneys for up-to-date visas, and occasionally living away from each other as well as their five children and several grandchildren.

They could go back to Mexico. Luis did, in fact, return.

“I didn’t feel like I belonged over there anymore,” he said. “I was used to the American lifestyle.”

Hispanics are a noticeable presence in the Rock River Valley, comprising about 11 percent of the Winnebago County population in 2012, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. They have changed the tenor of the region by enhancing its diversity and adding to classrooms, workplaces and the social scene.

Former Winnebago County Board member Isidro Barrios has close ties to the region’s Hispanic community.

He has known Luis and Rita Gonzalez for years and requests Rita’s dishes of beans, rice, mole and tamales whenever he has important visitors in town. Barrios keeps an office a few doors down from the couple’s Broadway restaurant, Snack-N-Go. He said they have become both friends and neighbors.

Barrios said the couple is “almost there” in their pursuit of the American dream.

Friday, as the nation celebrates its independence, the couple will operate two corn stands near South Main Street, serving up corn on the cob for those missing the way it was prepared on the streets of Mexico — with mayonnaise, Parmesan cheese, butter and hot pepper.

He compared the nation to a basket of apples, which are known as manzanas across the border.

“There are rotten apples, and there are good apples,” he said. “You have to see the difference, and I’ve been around many bad apples. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to become one of them.”

While he has no interest in returning to the land where he was born, he and Rita wouldn’t mind moving to San Antonio. The city is known for its large Spanish-speaking population. The drive from there to see family in Monterrey would be about five hours.

“But anywhere you go, you have to make money,” Luis said “You have to survive somehow. The bottom line: surviving. You may not get rich, but you’re going to survive.”

Luis envisions Rita running a Mexican-style ice cream parlor offering slushies and milk shakes. He would carry on with factory work, which he does now from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. in Loves Park, or possibly pursue a teaching career working with Spanish speakers.

He already knows the discipline he’d preach through words and by example.

“Practice,” he said. “Practice, practice. Don’t be afraid. You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to speak a bad word trying to say a good word. You don’t hear the difference.”

He gives an example, which certainly may be heard today as nonnative English speakers learn the language. Luis says the word “sheet,” drawing out the E’s. Then he mentions the curse word that sounds similar.

“You have to learn how to move your tongue,” he said, elaborating that Spanish, to his ear, is a stronger-sounding language. To him, English sounds a little bit softer.